Chapter 37

… Thursday after Arata and Stain encounter…

After leaving Arata, Stain walked to an abandoned warehouse in Hosu's eastern industrial block. He looked around before entering through the fire exit; he wasn't trying to sneak in, but knowing who he was going to meet, he preferred to stay cautious. They had suggested the location through an intermediary, and Stain had confirmed it was clean before agreeing to the meeting.

Shortly after he went inside, someone opened a portal behind him. Even though he knew they were here, he didn't turn around.

"You came alone,” They all stood in silence for a moment before Stain spoke in his raspy voice.

"Don't forget about Kurogiri; he counts too," Shigaraki replied.

Stain turned slowly; behind him stood Shigaraki Tomura with Kurogiri at his side. Shigaraki moved through the warehouse with confidence as if he wasn't meeting someone dangerous, before placing a tablet and a thick folder on a wooden crate between them.

"Since our interests finally aligned, I've made sure to bring you what you asked for. Look at this," Shigaraki said, pointing at the tablet. "Specter. A complete glitch in the system."

Stain looked at the screen. Different footage of the Sports Festival was being played. The opening obstacle course, the cavalry battle, and the bracket matches. Someone had edited it, leaving only the scenes with Arata.

"In the obstacle course, he flew the entire route without touching the ground. Nobody could hit him." Shigaraki said, his voice getting louder the more he spoke, the more agitated he became. "He cleared the cavalry round without his headband changing hands once." He swiped the screen. "In the bracket match, he only used his quirk directly in one match. One!!"

"He's not showing everything he can do," Stain said.

"Exactly!" Shigaraki agreed. "His quirk registered file says he has a single invisible construct. What the footage shows is more than that: the construct can operate semi-independently, modifies its physical properties on demand, and it seems like it can be maintained continuously, and let's not forget that he can apparently freeze people simply by screaming."

"The official file is incomplete," Stain noted.

"The file is what he gave them," Shigaraki said. "He's been managing what UA knows about him since before he enrolled. That's not a student, that's someone playing the long game by hiding his ability inside a hero school."

Stain remained silent, watching Shigaraki's trembling body, especially his arm. He noted the folder Kurogiri had slid forward, containing audio spectrum graphs, the USJ incident report, and an assessment of Class 1-B's Neito Monoma's reaction after encountering Arata.

"The paralysis ability," Stain started asking. 

"It's omnidirectional," Shigaraki explained after calming down; he tapped the screen to pull up an acoustic wave chart. "We've estimated that it should cover at least twenty meters at full output. It isn't raw volume like Present Mic; no, it's a targeted sonic frequency. The range depends on his natural vocal output, and it freezes the targets anywhere from ten seconds to a minute." He swiped to Monoma's medical report. "When a student attempted to copy his quirk during the cavalry round, the attempt failed miserably."

"The UA's official position about the boy is wrong," Stain said.

"We know what it actually is," Shigaraki said. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing through the fingers covering his face. "You met him, didn't you? On a rooftop during his patrol."

"I did," Stain replied calmly. "He stood before me without panicking. No grand speeches, no false self-righteousness, no hollow ideals. When asked why he wears the uniform, he stated his intent without hesitation: money and personal independence. He is a product of this commercialized society, but he does not hide behind self-serving hypocrisy."

Shigaraki let out a short, grating laugh while clutching his arm. "Money and freedom? Sounds like an NPC with lazy dialogue. But he's a thorn in our side, and he stands in our way unless we strip him of his tools."

Shigaraki reached into his coat and tossed a small case on the crate alongside the documents. Inside lay two custom earpieces, with no manufacturer markings. Stain picked one up between his fingers, turning it over under the dim light. It was lighter than standard off-the-shelf equipment.

"His scream is just a sound wave, operating on a precise frequency range," Shigaraki said, his cracked lips pulling back into a grin. "Sound waves can be canceled if you cut the exact frequency. We were able to directly record his acoustic frequency from the UA's sports festival."

Stain set the earpiece down and looked up. "This is precise enough that public recordings of the Sports Festival shouldn't be sufficient as source material." Stain's eyes narrowed, catching the underlying implication immediately. "You needed UA's internal acoustic reading from their own equipment inside the stadium. You have direct access inside the academy!"

"That isn't your concern; your only role is to take care of the kid. These earpieces can filter his frequency selectively, and they can keep communication between wearers open." Shigaraki spat with contempt. "With these earpieces, his paralysis trick is useless. Strip that and his construct away, all that will remain is just a fragile kid standing out in the open."

Stain looked back at the case. The precision bothered him less than the implication; someone inside the academy had provided data on a first-year student's abilities.

"You built a weapon to silence a child," Stain said, his voice dropping into disdain. "Your hatred lacks conviction, Shigaraki. You rage against the world like an infant throwing toys from a crib because it does not bend to your whim."

Shigaraki's arm started trembling violently. 

"Call it whatever you want, old man. But that child took down many villains at USJ and humiliated me. He's cold, he doesn't panic, and his quirk shuts down our whole group instantly. You want to purge hero society? You can't purge anything if you're frozen in place while his phantom breaks your ribs."

Kurogiri stepped forward, his smoky form expanding slightly to defuse the tension. "There is no need to be hostile to each other. Your ideal requires a stage, and Tomura's plan provides the exact requirements to isolate your target without interference from high-ranking Pro Heroes."

"Mirko is a hound," Shigaraki explained, his bared teeth visible beneath the severed hand on his face. "She moves on instinct and can't resist a loud fight. We run a loud incident two districts over, manufactured specifically to pull her away without looking deliberate."

"Leaving the boy alone." Stain finished his sentence.

"Exactly," Shigaraki said. "He holds the eastern route by himself. Once Mirko is pulled away, our team moves in wearing these custom earpieces. His scream becomes useless. His phantom will be forced to defend him against a multi-front attack."

Stain thought about the boy, the flat honesty of his answers, and the presence watching from behind. It was clear the boy had foundation and combat instincts, but lacked a higher purpose because hero society had sold him a commercial transaction.

"He is not a fake hero who preaches justice for applause," Stain murmured. "He is something worse, a byproduct of a world that turns human life into a business. He possesses power, yet views it merely as a tool for personal comfort. That is something that I must correct."

Stain closed his fist around the earpiece. "I accept the arrangement. Your vanguard has the numbers to handle the constructs, but don't forget the boy belongs to me. Your people hold position and maintain the perimeter unless I call for them. I alone will test the strength of his conviction."

"Deal," Shigaraki smirked. "Let's see how quiet he gets when his voice stops working."

"If your people move on my target before I'm finished…" Stain warned.

"They won't," Shigaraki said smoothly.

Kurogiri opened the portal, and Shigaraki walked through without looking back.

Stain walked back through the industrial block alone, with the earpiece in his pocket. The intelligence was real; he could confidently say so. The Sports Festival analysis matched his observations from his earlier meeting with the boy. Shigaraki hadn't tried to oversell the plan or force the objective beyond what was necessary to secure his agreement. That was either strict discipline or careful calculation.

Shigaraki had claimed that he only wanted Stain to consider joining them when asked what the League gained. A smooth answer designed to avoid further questions. Stain filed the thought away and kept walking.

The framework was sound. The numbers provided by the League would offset the construct's mobility by overwhelming it and neutralizing the paralysis, eliminating the boy's fastest countermeasure.

He despised the League's cynicism, but he acknowledged the utility of their tool.

Stain looked down at the dark streets where Arata would patrol tomorrow afternoon.

"Arata Seiji," Stain rasped into the wind, his hand tightening around the earpieces. "Tomorrow, show me if your soul has conviction... or if you are just another fake waiting to bleed.”

The boy was honest about his limits, uninterested in performing false virtue, and capable of absolute composure under pressure. All of those qualities were real, but currently he was tethered to a hollow commercialized worldview. That made him a priority for correction.

….

Across the city, Kurogiri reformed inside the League's hideout. Shigaraki was already seated, pulling up Mirko's patrol schedule and cross-referencing her split times with Arata.

"He believes it," Kurogiri said, stepping behind the bar.

"Of course he does." Shigaraki didn't look up from the screen. "He thinks we want the same thing he wants. People who think they're principled are easy to manipulate, and their ideals do the work for you."

"What if the operation produces an unexpected outcome?"

"Then we adapt." Shigaraki highlighted the split timestamp on the eastern perimeter at 14:47, Mirko's standard break-off point during the afternoon sweep. "Stain is useful because he'll get closer than we can right now. He'll push the target harder than our people could. Whatever happens is data we didn't have before." 

He closed the schedule window. "And when he's done delivering his lesson, we finish the job he didn't come here to do."

"He will view that as a betrayal," Kurogiri observed.

"He can view it however he likes," Shigaraki replied, tossing one of the acoustic filter earpieces into the air and catching it in his palm. "By then, it won't matter what he thinks."

"Are we secure regarding the transfer of information?" Kurogiri asked, wiping down the counter.

"The informant delivered the acoustic frequency logs directly from UA's internal servers without triggering alerts," Shigaraki said, a dry grin spreading beneath the hand on his face. "Nezu's automated security sweeps failed to flag it. Master's connection inside the administration remains undetected. Nezu thinks he's secure behind his iron gates, but the doors are already unlocked from the inside."

Shigaraki zoomed in on the digital map of the commercial district, tracking the predictable pattern of Arata's patrol assignment.

"Look at how predictable he is," Shigaraki whispered. "He doesn't chase glory or look for cameras. He sticks to his route like an NPC following a hardcoded path. He relies on his voice to lock people down and uses his construct to cover his blind spots. He thinks he's invulnerable because nobody has broken his rules yet."